


The Great Christmas Kidnape Caper

by zilia



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Berlin - Freeform, Christmas, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zilia/pseuds/zilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris wakes up on a very unusual Christmas morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Christmas Kidnape Caper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soproudofya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soproudofya/gifts).



> A gift for the lovely soproudofya. Happy Christmas! Hopefully the fluff will make up for the lack of porn.

Chris woke in an unfamiliar bed, with a feeling that he supposed was not unlike being hit by a freight train. He was uncomfortably hot; his head was pounding, and his throat felt dry and scratchy. He groaned experimentally, and then almost jumped out of his skin when an answering sound came from across the bed.

He blinked a few times to try to clear his head, and then, steeling himself, rolled over to glance across at his bedmate. Having no idea where he was, he prepared himself for the unexpected, although he was reassured to discover that he was fully dressed. He forced his eyes to focus – not easy when his glasses were nowhere to be found – and a vision of garish plaid and dark hair swam into view.

“Zach?”

“Yes?”

Well, that certainly _was_ unexpected. “Where are we?”

“We’re in Berlin.”

Right. This was ringing a vague bell. Certainly he didn’t want to freak out at the idea of Berlin, which was probably a good sign, even though he couldn’t remember _why_ just at the moment.

“Why are we in Berlin?”

“Because I kidnapped you.”

“Ah.” Chris took a moment to try to force his brain to work. It didn’t help. “Why?”

“Because I realised you’re the love of my life.”

Chris gave up trying to make sense of anything. “Ok.” After a moment, he said, “Zach, could you stop the room from spinning, please?”

 

 

 

A few moments later, he realised dimly that Zach was still talking.

“…not like it’s a big deal or anything, but I thought maybe you might have been a bit more enthusiastic about my confession of love... _Chris, are you listening to me?_ ”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m too busy wishing I was dead. Um, nothing personal. What did I drink last night?”

“Wishing you _were_ dead. Did you even go to Berkeley?”

“Now is _definitely_ the time to be correcting my grammar…I’m sorry, did you say that you _kidnapped_ me and took me to Berlin?”

“A few minutes ago, yes. Is that a problem?”

Chris gave an incredulous bark of laughter, then wished he hadn’t.

“Only slightly. What day is it?”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“Christmas Day.” Chris forced his voice to remain calm, although it was difficult to control something that was little more than a croak. “It’s Christmas Day, and you kidnapped me, took me to Berlin, evidently hired a bunch of ogres to beat the crap out of me, and now I’m the love of your life?”

“ _Yes._ Apart from the ogres part.”

“I’m supposed to be with my sister and my parents today.”

“Don’t worry, I called them.”

“You called them?”

“Yes. I called them, and I said ‘I need to borrow Christopher for a few days, I’ve just realised something terribly important, I hope you don’t mind.’ And then I sent them the biggest muffin basket I could find to apologise. They were fine with it.”

Chris felt oddly irked that his family hadn’t put up more of a fight about this, and then he felt annoyed to have missed out on an enormous delivery of muffins. However, there were more pressing issues at stake.

“Kidnapping. You said kidnapping. Were there drugs involved? Is that why I feel so bad?”

“No, you came pretty willingly. Well, you didn’t put up a fight. Much of one. Didn’t say much of anything, actually.”

Chris wished he could remember that conversation, but it remained stubbornly elusive.

“Was I drunk?”

“No.”

“Then why do I feel so terrible?”

“You did say you weren’t feeling too good when I came to get you. I had to let myself in because you were in bed. It was a bit of a struggle to get you to get up, and I had to pack most of your stuff myself.”

“You _broke into my house_ , _woke me up,_ and then _took me to Berlin?_ On _Christmas Eve?_ ”

“It’s ok, I paid for the tickets.”

This was so far from the point Chris had been trying to make that he growled in frustration, despite the pain he had in his throat.

“You kind of slept most of the way on the plane,” Zach continued, “We’ve been here for a few hours and you just woke up now.”

“I think…I think I might not be very well.”

“You have been coughing a lot.”

“Could I have some water?”

Zach passed him a bottle from the bedside table. Chris took a few long swigs. It helped, a bit. He sat up, intending to find his glasses, but the sudden change of position made his head give a dangerous throb, and so he sank back down to the pillow with a groan. Zach stroked his forehead gently, and he sighed into the touch, Zach’s hand cool on his burning skin.

“I think you are pretty sick. Poor baby.”

“I went to bed with a fever…I was having weird dreams. Like you were there, and then I was flying…oh. I guess maybe that could have not been a dream.”

“Yeah.” Zach sounded slightly guilty for the first time. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” He sounded so dejected that Chris felt like he had to reassure him, despite the fact that Zach had forced him to spend what was quite possibly his last day on earth in a strange hotel far away from his family.

“No, no, it’s a great idea…” He broke off and coughed violently, his face purpling as he struggled for breath, “I’m having an awesome time.”

This was so obviously a lie that Zach laughed. There was a slight edge of hysteria in it that Chris found particularly unnerving.

 “Zach. Why are we here?”

“Because you’re the love of my life. And it’s Christmas.”

“Have you been watching _Love Actually_ again?”

“I thought it would be romantic.”

“Only if you’re into _La Traviata._ ”

“You haven’t got TB.”

“I think I’ve got everything but.” He was suddenly struck by how calm he felt about all of this. Maybe the combination of the sixth-grade marching band playing in his head and the sheer audacity of Zach’s actions was surprising, but the fact that he and Zach were fumbling towards finally admitting how they felt about each other was not. A shade of anxiety passed across Zach’s face, and Chris realised that he hadn’t done his part of the admitting yet. Time to rectify that, at least.

“Chris. Tell me I haven’t made a huge mistake.”

“I’ve been in love with you for years now, Zach. I don’t know why you had to pick this exact time to tell me when – “

“It’s _Christmas._ ”

“– I’m _sick,_ possibly _dying._ This couldn’t have waited until I’d gotten over the flu, had a couple of highly embarrassing days coughing my lungs up, ideally been fussed over by my family for a week or so, and then made a full recovery?”

“You’ve really been in love with me for years and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m not going to lie here and be criticised by you about timing, Quinto. And yes. Of course. I just had no idea you felt the same way.”

“I didn’t, until yesterday. I just…I was listening to Christmas music and wrapping gifts and then I just thought, there was someone _missing,_ and I realised it was you. I want to spend every Christmas with you for the rest of my life. Even when you’re sick and gross and delirious.”

A dangerous wave of sentimentality squeezed at Chris’s heart, and he hoped he wasn’t going to cry. To tamp it down, he affected a serious expression and gripped Zach’s hand.

 “I’m glad you be with you, Zachary Quinto. Here at the end of all things.”

“Stop being so melodramatic.”

“What’s more melodramatic than kidnapping a sick person and dragging them to Berlin just because it’s Christmas?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

It was definitely not his finest hour as far as kissing was concerned. It was soft and sweet, but he had to break off halfway through to cough, and that kind of ruined the moment. Still, a pleasant warmth settled in the base of his spine at the feeling of Zach’s lips on his, which was a good indication of how fantastic things might be when he was up to full strength again.

“Not sure I’m going to be able to give you much more than that right now.”

“That’s ok, I can wait. You’re here. I love you. You love me. We’re in Berlin. It’s Christmas.”

“Why Berlin, incidentally? Silver Lake not dramatic enough?”

“Because…you know. The second movie premiere. The club. The stuff we’ve been pretending never happened. It seemed an appropriate place to tell you.”

Memories of that evening burst into Chris’s brain like fireworks, and he willed his immune system to get going so that they could have a repeat performance as soon as possible. On that note…

“I expect to be nursed back to health.” He saw Zach recoil as he gave a particularly phlegmy cough – perhaps he slightly exaggerated it in order to make the most of Zach’s squeamishness; couldn’t let him get off too easily after all, not when he had been ripped untimely from the loving bosom of his family - but then his expression settled into one of determination.

“I can do zat.”

“Nyquil, Kleenex, hand-feeding, bathing my fevered brow, sponge baths…”

“I’ll start running one now, oh Master.”

“Wait.” A thought struck him suddenly. “Zach. I left your present behind in LA.”

“Oh Christopher,” Zach said, shaking his head and bending to kiss him again, “Don’t be ridiculous. All I want for Christmas is you.”


End file.
